mingled with the maddened cries of burning animals. Around in the suburbs, also, could be seen column after column of dense smoke started by the torches of the cruisers, and settling in dense masses over the city as if threatening to bury her forever from sight. Fortunately for the inhabitants, the houses thereabout were too wide apart to allow the flames to spread far. Even at this juncture the work of destruction might have been stopped for the reason that Cyrus stopped the sack of Sardis when Crœsus said to him: “These are not my goods, but thine, O Cyrus, that thou art spoiling!”
All this time waged the conflict of arms, the Mexicans seeking by repeated charges and sallies to check the advance of the Spaniards and to harass them. The native chronicles relate that during one of the
countercharges by the cavalry a horseman pierced a warrior with such force that the lance remained fast in the ground. Regarding it as a disgrace to abandon his weapon he rashly dismounted to unfasten it, only to be surrounded by the foe and cut in pieces. His comrades hastened to the rescue, but could recover only the mangled remains.4
When evening came and the signal was given for return to camp, the Mexicans fell upon the rear with renewed ardor. It seems as if courage came to them in proportion to their misfortunes. For their fury broke forth anew, fed by the dire conditions round them, by the sight of lately enslaved Otomís, Xochimilcans, and Chalcans, now fighting against them under the sheltering wings of the invaders, and exulting over their misfortunes with bitter taunts. “Behold!” they cried, displaying dismembered limbs of Aztecs, “we shall fill our bellies with your braves, and have enough over wherewith to feed the beasts. Do not starve yourselves, for to-morrow we will return for more.” “And in truth they both supped and breakfasted on the limbs,” says Cortés.5 Camp was regained without serious trouble.